Ice Cream With a Natural Flavor: Milk Ice Cream

In response to the post about Cold Stone Creamery imitator Ice Stone Creamery selling ice cream in Zhongshan, China, "Potomaker" commented:

More evidence of a very immature market and uninformed consumers. I recall asking a colleague what her favorite flavor of ice cream was. Her response: milk.

Before replying to the first part of Potomaker's comment, I would want to clarify what counts as a "mature market" and an "informed customer" in this case. I would also want to know why customers in Zhongshan are choosing Ice Stone and more about what the store offers them, including the overall experience. For now, I'll just say that Ice Stone's similarities to Cold Stone and my own negative impressions of their mint chip ice cream doesn't mean its customers aren't making considered decisions based on relevant information.

I have more to say in response to the second part of Potomaker's comment, especially since it calls to mind some fond memories of an ice cream flavor that is likely unknown to many yet couldn't be more simple.

In the U.S., ice cream I have seen for sale includes at least one flavorful ingredient, such as vanilla or chocolate, in addition to the usual standard ingredients of sugar and milk/creme. But what if someone made ice cream without any of the familiar additional flavors? And if this "flavorless" ice cream was sold at an ice cream store what should it be named? Since the flavors of this ice cream are simply milk/creme and sugar, "milk ice cream" would be a an option. It acknowledges the established use of "ice cream" as a more general term and the expectation additional words will specify the ice cream's flavor. And from a marketing perspective, "milk ice cream" may be more appealing than other options such as "plain ice cream". I am not trying to making a conclusive case it is the best option but just that it is reasonable.

And I have had ice cream named "milk ice cream" (or the equivalent in Chinese) several times in Taiwan and mainland China. Years ago when I first I heard of milk ice cream, I assumed the person introducing it to me was confused or meant vanilla ice cream. But I soon discovered that, yet again, what can seem obvious isn't necessarily so obvious. And before I knew it, I was enjoying milk ice cream.

Sometimes ice cream with this name may include at least a bit of vanilla flavoring. Nonetheless, ice cream described as having the flavor "milk" is definitely out there. And for those who are now doubting my sanity, Flying Cow Ranch in Miaoli County, Taiwan, offers one clear and definitive case of the existence of "pure" milk ice cream.

On a Yahoo Taiwan ecommerce site, Flying Cow Ranch's store sells three flavors of ice cream, as seen above, labeled in Chinese as "chocolate", "milk", and "vanilla". The listed ingredients for the milk ice cream are "raw milk, fresh cream, sugar, and milk powder". Although I wouldn't say it was my own personal favorite, I wouldn't question anyone else who declared it as theirs. And without hesitation I would recommend giving it a try if you have the chance. Like Potomaker's colleague, you might find milk to be your new favorite flavor of ice cream.

An Ice Cream Walk in Zhongshan

Walking on Sunwen West Road Pedestrian Street in Zhongshan and eating ice cream not from Ice Stone Creamery

Mixing It Up In China: The Ice Stone Creamery Sells Ice Cream With a Familiar Look

U.S.-based Cold Stone Creamery opened its first mainland China ice cream store near People's Square in Shanghai in 2007. Many more Cold Stone stores have since opened elsewhere in Shanghai and also Beijing, Hangzhou, Nanjing, Shenzhen, Suzhou, Tianjin, and Wuxi.

Recently during a walk, I was surprised to see their reach had spread to Zhongshan, Guangdong province, as well. The first time I briefly saw the store, though, something seemed off. When I passed by another time, it hit me. Despite the outside resemblance, the store wasn't actually a Cold Stone Creamery.

The name of the Ice Stone Creamery store isn't all that seems to have been inspired by the Cold Stone Creamery. Here is the logo for the Cold Stone Creamery in China:

The ice cream logos for Cold Stone and Ice Stone aren't exactly the same, but, like the names, the resemblance is rather remarkable. I could recognize the difference only after a direct comparison.

Ice Stone Creamery appears to have an account on Sina Weibo — a Chinese online service roughly equivalent to Facebook and Twitter.

Curiously, "Leonidas" takes the place of "Ice Stone Creamery" in its name, although "Ice Stone" can be seen in some posted photos. The most recent post, which is from September, 2013, shows a photo of the store I saw before it opened at the Central Power Plaza shopping mall. The account also mentions other locations in Zhongshan.

After recognizing the store for what it was, I felt compelled to give it a try to see how it compared.

In response to my questioning, the server proudly told me they were a local Zhongshan store. They offered a variety of flavors such as cantaloupe, chocolate, coconut, cookie, cranberry, durian, and green tea. For 18 RMB (about U.S. $2.88) I ordered a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Unlike the Cold Stone Creamery, the chocolate chips were already in the ice cream and other toppings were offered only after the ice cream was in a cup.

As I sat down with my ice cream (sans additional toppings), the remarkable placement of a trademark symbol next to the Ice Stone Creamery logo on the cup reminded me of a 7-Eleven lookalike store in Guizhou. But what I was most interested in was the taste of the ice cream, so I quickly dug in. And the taste truly puzzled me. It was difficult to notice any mint flavor and identify what I could taste. A few more not-especially-creamy spoonfuls left me rather disappointed, so I tossed the rest — something I rarely do with ice cream in China (or anywhere).

Last year, an American visited an Ice Stone store at another location in Zhongshan and had a different experience:

The ice cream was great though! It came with toppings, a waffle cone and all! We will DEFINITELY be going back there again.

So perhaps I would have better luck with another flavor or Ice Stone store. Or perhaps Ice Stone hasn't maintained the quality of its ice cream. Or perhaps the person has a very different perspective on ice cream. I don't know. Whatever the case, like with the McDonald's Year of Fortune Burgers, I don't feel especially motivated to give Ice Stone's ice cream a second try.

I don't know whether Cold Stone is aware of Ice Stone and whether there is much it has done or can do from a legal perspective. But I do know that I will later have more to share from China about other imitators and, thankfully, better ice cream.

McDonald's Celebrates in China With Year of Fortune and Year of Luck Burgers

Last year, I wrote about McDonald's "incomparable" Prosperity Burgers — a special localized menu item available only near the Lunar New Year in places such as Hong Kong, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore. For some reason, they are not available in mainland China.

Instead, for the holiday this year in mainland China McDonald's offers two other special burgers.

Image from McDonalds.com.cn

They don't look anything like a Prosperity Burger. Nor do they look like something I would want to eat. But I have been deceived by appearances of food in China before, so I decided to give them a try in Chongqing.

I started off with the Year of Fortune Burger (年年有利堡).

The main ingredients are a slice of chicken with a layer of skin topped by two fried shrimp sticks, lettuce, and a mayonnaise-based sauce.

After one bite, I wasn't feeling the fortune. After a second bite, I removed the shrimp sticks, took the skin off the chicken, and scraped off the mystery sauce. I found it passable after that, somewhat.

I left the McDonald's. After walking a couple of blocks, I worried if I waited much longer I would not be able to convince myself to finish this important project. So I stopped by another McDonald's.

Now was time to try the Year of Luck Burger (年年有福堡). It was not packaged in a box like the Year of Fortune Burger, possibly because it did not require as much structural support or shielding.

I thought the main ingredients were two pork sausage patties topped by a tomato, lettuce, and mystery sauce. I thought . . .

I took one bite into the burger and was overwhelmed by unexpectedly high levels of pork flavor. That is not a tomato on top of the sausage patties but instead something like a ham patty. I took a second bite, considered whether I could rescue the burger, and determined my luck had run out for the moment.

Fortunately for McDonald's, I am probably not their target customer for these burgers. Perhaps others in China enjoy them. But for me, the Prosperity Burgers far outshine their cousins in mainland China.

"Made in the U.S.A." at a Walmart in Chongqing

In the U.S., Walmart is known for selling many "Made in China" products. Not surprisingly, many products at Walmarts in China are also manufactured in China. So I find it notable when I see a "Made in the U.S.A." product for sale at a Walmart in China.

Today at a Walmart in Chongqing, I noticed such a product.

Ocean Spray's Craisins were clearly marked as a U.S. product, although they are packaged in New Zealand — quite a trip. 16.8 yuan (about US $2.70) for 170 grams seemed like a fair deal in China. I bought a bag, since I hadn't had Craisins in a long time. But it turns out I didn't get as good of a deal as I could have if I had wanted a lot of Craisins.

Only online at Tmall, Costco currently sells a 1360 gram bag (HT Charles Liu) for 69 yuan, about 37% cheaper per gram. Costco began selling products on Tmall to people in mainland China last October. According to the Tmall page, Costco's Craisins first go through Taiwan before reaching anyone in mainland China. These are especially well-traveled American Craisins.

A Day's Journey by Air, Bus, and Rail in China

Similar to the recent dinner I had on an overnight train, the meal I consumed on a plane today will not enter my top ten list of meals I have enjoyed in China.

The flight attendant told me the meat was chicken, but it didn't seem like a poultry substance. I am not sure what it was, but it reminded me of yak meat. The wet wipes had a nice smell and were made in Xinjiang.

I feel fortunate that my nearly three hour flight did not feature anything similar to one of the "flying China-style" problems which seem to often make the news these days. In other words, the flight was not delayed, no flight attendants were violently attacked, and no passengers attempted to open the emergency exit door for fresh air. Way to go, team.

The end of the flight did feature something I commonly experience when flying in China and which does not thrill me. Despite numerous open gates at the airport, the plane did not park at any of them, and instead we had to take a bus from the plane to the airport terminal.

Once off the jam-packed bus, I considered the architectural style of the airport concourse.




After that, I was excited to be back in a city I hadn't set foot in for almost exactly 6 years. Rail was not an option for traveling from the airport before, but it was now.



Since the monorail train, which soon filled, traveled above ground most of the time during my hour-plus trip, there was ample opportunity to look around at the city and marvel at its size.

I paused to soak in one scene when I was switching train lines.

Not long after that, I was able to put the plane's mystery meat behind me by diving into some appropriately numbing and spicy local food.

That was definitely fish.

Some savvy readers may have figured out my current location in China, which is far from Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Beijing. For others, I will provide one last clue: the beer which accompanied my outdoor dinner.

More soon about a fascinating hilly city where I have already noticed a tremendous amount of change since my last visit.

Larvae With Cilantro

I am dealing with some internet connection issues. So instead of a train meal, here is another dish I enjoyed recently.

The cilantro is a nice touch.

I can now say that deep-fried termite larvae have their culinary merits. Surprisingly, my American friend's 6 year old son agrees. I would say large spiders have more flavor though.

More, but far less buggy, posts soon.

A Night Train Meal

On a recent overnight train from Hong Kong to Shanghai, this was my dinner:

Bought for 25 RMB (about US $4) from a train crew member pushing around a cart filled with dinner trays like this one—the only option available—the meal was pricey compared to similar options available at some convenience store chains. I can't say it was one of my finer culinary experiences in China, but it did help me pass some time.

During the past few weeks I have been in Shanghai, Zhangzhou, Hong Kong, and back in Shanghai. Due to travel, holidays, visitors, a cold, etc. I haven't posted much lately. I have much I want to catch up on, particularly related to my time in Zhangzhou & Hong Kong, so upcoming posts, like the meal above, will include a mix items.

Mr. Panda's Inkfish Pizza in Shanghai

If people were told there is a restaurant in Dallas named Mr. Panda and asked what type of food it served, how would they respond? I would guess many Americans would guess "Chinese food", and they'd be correct.

If those same people were told there is a restaurant in Shanghai named Mr. Panda and asked what type of food it served, how would they respond? I am less sure of the response, but I would guess not many would say "pizza". However, "pizza" would indeed be a correct answer for Mr. Panda's seven locations in Shanghai.



Mr. Panda's pizzas are large, 18 inches in diameter, and can be bought whole or by the slice. Like a number of other pizza restaurants in China, some of its pizzas include toppings tailored to local tastes. Unlike a number of other pizza restaurants in China, if offers the "Inkfish Pizza" (the more dramatic Chinese name: 酷炫墨鱼汁披萨).




Yes, it has a black crust with yummy cephalopod ink. Unlike the squid ink breakfast hot dog I saw promoted at a Macanese restaurant in Hong Kong, I decided I had to give it a try. I bought a slice at 18 RMB (slightly less that U.S. $3) and found myself a place in the small seating area at Mr. Panda's location in the SML Center shopping mall.




I looked up for motivation and noticed that none of the people portrayed above me were eating the inkfish pizza.




And then I considered my slice of pizza.



The visual was not exactly inspiring and expectations for the pizza's taste were sinking. Based on some reactions from passersby, I could tell I was not the only one who found the pizza to be a bit unusual.

I might have stared longer, but I didn't want the pizza to get cold. So I took a big bite.

It definitely was not what I expected. I really liked it—as in I came back for another slice when I had a craving a week later. The crust had a very light flavor similar to the squid ink breads sold in some bread shops in China. It blended surprisingly well with the toppings, which included peppers, shrimp, and presumably either dried squid or cuttlefish. I suspect if people were blindfolded while tasting the pizza, many wouldn't notice anything unusual about the crust.

Mr. Panda is not the only restaurant in the world serving a squid ink pizza. But Mr. Panda does serve as an interesting example of how both pizza restaurants and their customers in China are changing. More on that topic later.

Putian Street Food: Gimbap

In a recent conversation, a person I met from Fujian province commented on the many high-quality fake shoes available in the city of Putian, not very far from her hometown. I don't have much to say about Putian's shoe industry, but it provides me an excuse to share more about the coastal city almost directly west from Taipei across the Taiwan strait. I never got around to several posts I had in mind when I was there two years ago.

So here is a scene including one of Putian's many street food vendors:

Fujian has great local cuisine, but the street food vendor was selling what the sign described as Korean sushi*, otherwise known as gimbap (or kimbap). My impression is that gimbap vendors are most popular with younger people. I have seen similar gimbap vendors in many other Chinese cities as well. Like New Orleans roasted chicken vendors, the gimbap vendors show how China's street food can extend beyond traditional Chinese offerings.



*The sign's "韩国寿司" literally translates as "Korean sushi". My understanding is that "紫菜包饭" would be a more direct Chinese translation for "gimbap".

A Taiwanese Politician Wants People to "Lean on Me"

While no other political signs in Taiwan have caught my attention as much as Lin Jinjie's (林金結) Barack Obama signs, one set comes in a clear second for their use of a familiar-to-many phrase.

Like Lin Jinjie (林金結), Ye Linchuan (葉林傳) is a member of Taiwan's Kuomintang party and he has his own page on Facebook. Unlike Lin, Ye is a council member in Taipei City and his signs do not include Barack Obama. Instead, at least some include the title of a song from the 70s by American singer-songwriter Bill Withers. Lest there be any doubt about the source of the phrase, the lyrics to the song "Lean On Me" appear in light lettering on the sign as well.

Not only did I see Ye employing this theme on several signs in Taipei, but I also saw it on the tissue boxes at a restaurant where I sometimes eat Taiwanese-style cold sesame noodles for breakfast.



As I am not familiar enough with Ye or local Taipei politics, I will refrain from commenting on the effectiveness of Ye's campaign tactics.

I will say, though, that the noodles were tasty.

A Good Strong Mix

One of today's discoveries:

Swiss chocolate with too much cocoa pairs excellently with Belgian beer with too much alcohol.

SpongeBob SquarePants Street Food in Changde

During my brief time in Changde, Hunan province, not only did I notice a hot pot restaurant with golden arches similar to the McDonald's logo, but I also saw a mobile food stall with another touch of American culture.

The umbrella promoted a Chinese brand of milk products for children — Mengniu's "Weilaixing" (未来星). I didn't ask how the umbrella made its way there, and such seeming mismatches are not a rare sight in China. Given the sole item being sold, I was mostly just attracted to the idea of SpongeBob SquarePants stinky tofu.

My Fourth of July in Hengyang, China

If I had been in Beijing, Hong Kong, or Shanghai on July 4th, I would have had many well-suited options for places to celebrate America's Independence Day. Off the top of my head, I can also easily think of such places in other Chinese cities such as Changsha, Kunming, Nanning, Xining, and Zhuhai.

However, enjoying a bit of American spirit proved more challenging in Hengyang, Hunan province, and required some improvisation.

My attempts during the evening to find proper American-style food not from a fast food chain restaurant were not fruitful. But a beer at a cafe caught my eye, and I decided to drink my first American Budweiser in a rather long time.

Unlike Zhuhai, I have yet to see anything approaching a hoppy beer in Hengyang.

Not by design, I later continued the beer theme and picked up a Pabst Blue Ribbon World War II memorial beer with an explicit US military theme.

I first saw this beer in far away Changchun 4 years ago, and I still would like to speak with the team who designed the can.

At the same supermarket, I picked up another item. The BBQ steak flavored Pringles definitely had much more of a taste than the beer despite lacking a military theme.

I wasn't sure how I could properly followup beer and potato chips. When I saw a Dairy Queen the answer became obvious—an Oreo Blizzard.

I was now ready for the main meal. I thought my best option would be another supermarket where hopefully I could buy ingredients to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But by the time I arrived it had closed.

So I gave up on avoiding fast food and headed to KFC for some fried chicken to wash down the beer, chips, and ice cream. Protein, grains, vegetables, and dairy—a good American diet, right?

After waiting in something approximating a line at KFC, the server explained it would be another 30 minutes until the fried chicken was ready. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is something incredible about that.

Whatever the case, I didn't want KFC that much.

I decided to call it night. The earlier delights combined with a long walk in extremely muggy weather had decreased my appetite anyway. But later I noticed a store with a selection of foods similar to the Bart Simpson themed snack store, so I picked up something to top it all off—Filipino coconut water and Chongqing spicy peppers.

I just pretended I was enjoying freedom water and freedom peppers.

A People's Dinner in Hengyang

Where I ate tonight along a narrow street in Hengyang, Hunan:

Some of the ingredients for the various dishes they could prepare:

The view looking outside from where I ate:

A dish of pumpkin and snails:

A spicy fish head:

I would not have thought of mixing snails with pumpkin (I remain unsure of the exact type of pumpkin). The dish was surprisingly tasty, though, and the fish head was excellent as well. The name of the restaurant "百姓排档" (Bǎixìng Páidǎng) could be translated as "The People's Food Stall". If you happen to be near Changqing Road (长青路), I recommend it as an inexpensive option for trying some of the local fare in Hengyang. You can't go wrong with the pumpkin and snails.

More of New Orleans in Hengyang

Outside a KFC isn't the only place you can find New Orleans Roasted Chicken street food in Hengyang. For example, not far from the Hengyang Railway Station is a similar food stall.

Still haven't found any muffulettas though.

Street Food and KFC: New Orleans Roasted Chicken in Hunan

In Hengyang, Hunan province, I have frequently passed a street food vendor who sells roasted chicken.

A chicken leg costs 5 yuan (about U.S. $0.80). Most of a small chicken costs 15 yuan.

The sign below the rotating chickens advertises "新奥尔良烤鸡"--"New Orleans Roasted Chicken". It may come as a surprise to New Orleanians that their city has received this type of attention in Hengyang. But like roasted chicken vendors, "New Orleans style" chicken is not unique to Hengyang in China. For example, it is easy to find marinades for sale online. It is also offered at a popular fast food restaurant chain: KFC.

A KFC New Orleans Roasted Burger costs 16.5 yuan. (Image source)

Despite their names, after seeing or tasting them, neither the street vendor's roasted chicken nor KFC's roasted chicken sandwich would have made me think of New Orleans on their own. And I don't see anything very similar to them in lists of "New Orleans' most iconic sandwiches" or "great roasted chickens" in New Orleans. When I think of New Orleans, chicken, and fast food, another American fast food chain first comes to mind though--Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen. The only Popeye's in all of China is at the Hong Kong International Airport.

The roasted chicken vendor and KFC are related in another way: one of KFC's over 4,000 restaurants in China is located directly behind the roasted chicken vendor's usual location.

Perfect location

I don't know what KFC thinks of this, but chengguan could be a bigger concern for the vendor. And even if nobody believes the food vendor is directly connected to KFC, I wonder if the vendor's location may cause KFC's brand to positively influence customers' perceptions, similar to the potential effects of imitating well-known brand names.

Whatever the case, perhaps the street vendor could further distinguish himself by diversifying his offerings based on the New Orleans theme. Personally, I would hope for muffulettas, but I suspect something from Popeyes menu with its spicy fried chicken would far better suit people's tastes in Hengyang and elsewhere in Hunan.

Scorpion Bowls: A Great Drink to Pair With Chinese Food?

In a food-related post, a friend of mine in the U.S. yesterday mentioned having a scorpion bowl. I have eaten scorpions, but, knowing my friend, I guessed no actual scorpions were involved. The name sounded familiar, and I found a recipe online for what seems like a rather strong and fruity alcoholic drink. I read the accompanying description:

Routinely found at Chinese restaurants, this punch-like cocktail is absolutely mouthwatering. This goes great with Chinese and Polynesian food.

After a few moments of thought, I assumed the writer was specifically referencing American-style Chinese restaurants in the first sentence. I have never seen this drink served at a Chinese restaurant in China, which I feel safe saying has the largest number of Chinese restaurants in the world, and I am highly skeptical it is common here. Yet another site claims the cocktail is "now served in Tiki bars and seedy Chinese joints around the world". "Joints" is broader than "restaurants" and "seedy" could be an important qualification. Perhaps I would find something different if I frequented a certain category of KTVs, clubs, and bars in China. However, if I wanted to find a drink like this in China, some more upscale Western-style bars not found in most cities would first come to mind.

The second sentence in the description is what most caught my attention. I questioned how a single drink could "go great" with everything from tongue-numbing Sichuanese dishes to sweeter and less pain-inducing Shanghainese food. I would expect that such a versatile drink would pair well with much more than only Chinese and Polynesian food. Again, I quickly assumed the writer had typical American-style Chinese food in mind. The diversity of tastes would be narrower than the full range of Chinese cuisines. Still, a presumably strong-tasting drink that complements everything from moo goo gai pan to pepper steak? That is probably more likely if one is well into their scorpion bowl before eating.

More than any purely edacious or potatory influences, I wonder if the "goes great" simply reflects an association of this drink with a subset of American-style Chinese restaurants in the U.S. The drink reminds me of a Chinese restaurant which was near my alma mater in Baltimore, Maryland. I don't recall whether scorpion bowls were on the drink menu, but one could order similar cocktails with liquor and fruit juices, such as zombies. More important to some students under the age of 21 than the exact drinks offered, this particular restaurant rarely asked for ID when cocktails were ordered. The students probably wouldn't argue that the drinks went great with Chinese food.

What a Restaurant Chain's Absence from Beijing and Shanghai Can Say

The Greenery Cafe (绿茵阁) is a restaurant chain in China which opened its first location in Guangzhou in 1989. They bill themselves as a western-style restaurant, though their menu also offers other styles of food such as Chinese and Thai. I have seen the restaurant in numerous Chinese cities, and yesterday I ate at their location in Zhanjiang, Guangdong province.

While there I listened to a waitress's story about why she had come to Zhanjiang from her hometown in Guizhou province and how I was her only foreign customer during her three weeks of working at the restaurant.

And I puzzled over why the club sandwich I ordered not only contained some typical ingredients but also had an unusual (including for China) layer of peanut butter.

But what most caught my attention that afternoon was the menu's map of the Greenery Cafe's locations in China.

Their 100+ stores cover a broad range of the country, though I am curious about their absence from provinces such as Zhejiang, Fujian, and Jiangsu. However, as an online store locator confirms, most interesting to me was the identity of two cities that don't have a single Greenery Cafe--Beijing and Shanghai.

Notably, those are the cities in China where many foreign companies focus their efforts, especially when first entering the Chinese market. While this can make a great deal of sense for some companies, this seemingly "obvious" choice is not necessarily the right choice for other companies. Even when pragmatism demands focusing on a single city, somewhere like Changsha could be a better place to start than Beijing. An understanding of why a Chinese business such as the Greenery Cafe can't be found in Beijing and Shanghai could provide insights about a) which parts of China a foreign company should target and b) how some products or services may meet the needs of or be better tailored for particular markets in China, whether Zhanjiang or Shanghai.

I could go on and on about this topic, and there are great questions to ask specifically about the Greenery Cafe. But for now, I will just add that China is a huge place full of opportunities and potential competitors. Although Beijing and Shanghai are big markets, the rest of China is much larger. The Greenery Cafe was yet another reminder of that.